


In Which Someone Tries to Buy a Book

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: AU-gust 2020 [16]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Does Not Sell Books, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: “Ahem!” Davenport shouted.“Hmm?” The man looked up. “Oh, hello.” Then he went back to ignoring him.“I do declare!” Davenport strode right up to the desk, volume clutched firmly under one arm, and rapped on the counter with his knuckles. “Excuse me,” he snapped.The man looked irritated when he deigned to finally look up. “What do you want,” he said flatly.“I have never in all my life been sorudely--” The man dropped his attention back to his manuscript, and Davenport hastily jumped ahead to the end. “I am going to buy this book.” He set it down firmly on the counter with a solid thump.“No, you’re not,” the man said, not glancing up from his book.
Series: AU-gust 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870924
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	In Which Someone Tries to Buy a Book

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 16, 2020 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/626644056571871232/au-gust-16-treasure-hunters-au)

Georges Wilhelm Reginald Davenport the Third was utterly appalled. “My word!” he exclaimed. “How utterly appalling!”

The rotund man behind the counter didn’t look up, still engrossed in his tome.

“My word,” he repeated louder.

The man didn’t look up, humming under his breath as he carefully turned a fragile page.

“Ahem!” Davenport shouted.

“Hmm?” The man looked up. “Oh, hello.” Then he went back to ignoring him.

That was infuriating. No man who looked that cherubic should be so _rude_.

“I do declare!” Davenport strode right up to the desk, volume clutched firmly under one arm, and rapped on the counter with his knuckles. “Excuse me,” he snapped.

The man looked irritated when he deigned to finally look up. “What do you want,” he said flatly.

“I have never in all my life been so _rudely_ \--” The man dropped his attention back to his manuscript, and Davenport hastily jumped ahead to the end. “I am going to buy this book.” He set it down firmly on the counter with a solid thump.

“No, you’re not,” the man said, not glancing up from his book.

“This is a _bookshop_ , is it not?” Davenport contested hotly. “The duty of a bookshop is to sell books, and I am going to buy this one,” he thumped the cover of the handsome leather-bound Shakespeare collection he had found.

The man didn’t look up, flipping the page in his book while grabbing a ruler with the other and pointing to a sign on the wall behind him. “No.”

The sign was a mass-produced one, intended for shops where people _actually sold things_. In clear lettering, it read ALL SALES FINAL. Except someone had crossed out ALL and printed NO above it. The FINAL had simply been crossed out altogether.

Davenport gaped at the sign. “Well, I never!”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” the man said without taking his eyes off the illuminations on the pages in front of him.

Davenport gathered his dignity around him and straightened up as much as he could. “I’m leaving,” he said coldly. “And I am never coming back.”

“Glad to hear it,” the man said cheerfully, turning another page. “Watch out for the snake.”

Davenport turned to sweep his way out of the shop. As he passed by the front window, a huge black snake basking there hissed something that sounded like “Ssso long, sssucker.”

He would never admit that he jumped about a foot. Nor that, as the door slammed behind him with the tinkle of a bell, he could have sworn the bookshop owner said, “Marvelous job, my dear,” and gotten a reply that sounded a hell of a lot like “Thanksss, angel.”

Thankfully, the Waterstones in Kensington had a beautiful set of classics that would look perfect in his study. And they were even willing to _sell them_ to him. What a notion.

**Author's Note:**

> Erm. This was supposed to be for a Treasure Hunter AU? It's more like an "overly arrogant 'treasure' hunter is thwarted by book-hoarding dragon" AU. ...which I suppose sort of fits the prompt? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
